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April 26, 2006

Smurfin' It Up - River to River Relay 2006

In mid-March, I found myself standing in a high school gym in Cary, IL, wondering if I was really ready for the half-marathon I was about to run. People were standing around, talking and joking, and I was stuck deep in my own thoughts, trying to psych myself up for the 13.1 miles of hills I was about to tackle.

However, this is not about that race (which, by the way, turned out just fine, silly me). As I was trying to dig myself out of my Pit O' Worry, someone turned to me and said, "Have you been hit up for that yet?" I was like, "Who? What? Huh?" Next thing I knew I was checking the calendar for a weekend at the end of April and throwing my lot in with the Smurfs for the River to River relay. In the Grand Dawnie Tradition, I gave it absolutely no thought outside of, "Do I have anything better to do that weekend?" I did check the race web site and look at the course maps, and I knew it would be sort of vaguely like DWD in that they're both relays, but that was about it. I had better things to worry about, like the fact that my job was trying to kill me.

Until the week before the race, that is. As coordination e-mails were flying back and forth, figuring out who was driving and who was getting picked up where, I had a moment of doubt. I looked at who my fellow Smurfs were, and I realized something: these people run a lot faster than I do. I suddenly felt unworthy, and was worried that I wasn't going to be able to keep up. I may have also wondered just how desperate for runners they were if they were down to asking me. Then I realized two things: Firstly, these people have been reading my race reports/results for almost a year now. They know how fast (or not, as the case may be) I run. If nothing else, they knew what they were getting themselves into by asking me. Secondly, even if I was the slowest person on the team, they're all far too nice to say anything to my face about it, which was good enough for me. I shoved all the doubts to the back of my mind, packed some bags, and on Friday afternoon, jumped into the back of an Expedition for the trek down to The Middle of Nowhere, Southern Illinois.

After a team dinner and shopping expedition, it was off the Ye Olde Squat for a few hours of sleep before an early pre-race wake-up call. We left a few minutes later than planned, which translating into us just missing our start time. The next start time? In 30 minutes. Well, shit. However, there's nothing we can do about it now, so I guess we'll just hang tight for a while.

When our start time finally rolled around, our first runner was off like a shot. She finished the first leg in record time (she'd continue to do that to us during the day - she's developed some speed!), and before I knew it, the second and third runners had finished their legs and I was up. I set out quickly, but pretty easily and was heading uphill right away. Ugh. However, by the time I got to the top of that first hill, I was pretty much warmed up and ready to rock. The first leg was only 3.6 miles, and full of hills that were rolling enough to keep it interesting, but small enough to not be a horrible way to start off the day. Before I knew it, I was heading uphill to the last turn. I saw the guy ahead of me walking up this hill which was a) not that big and b) the last hill of the leg, and couldn't believe it. It made me wish I was close enough to him to pick it up and blow right past him, because, dude, seriously. If that hill's making you walk? It's going to be a long-ass day. After rounding that last corner, I could see the exchange was close and also downhill from me, so I picked it up and flew into it. I handed the baton off, stopped my watch, and checked the time.

I figured that, given the fact that the terrain would be tricky and I'd have to run 3 legs over the course of the day, that a 10:00 pace was a reasonable expectation. My average pace for the first leg? 9:30-ish. Excellent.

By the time my second leg rolled around at 1:15 p.m., it was hot. And sunny. And, also, really freaking hot. 85 degrees hot. I'm not a fan of running in sunny 85 degree weather in the middle of August when I'm used to it, never mind in the middle of April when I still thing 65 degree weather is pretty toasty. Ugh. I had no idea how this was going to go, and I must have looked nervous or freaked out or something, because someone asked me if I was worried about the hills. I was all, "Hills? What hills? Oh, yeah, those hills. Eh. But why does it have to be so freaking hot?"

We worked out a plan for them to have a water bottle ready for me when they passed me on the course, and I headed out. Of course, a half-mile into the leg, I took a turn onto a side street, and the vehicles kept on going straight. Oops. So much for that water bottle. Luckily, most of the first half of the leg was through a residential area with trees and, thusly, shade. Right before I got back on to the main road, I had a huge, shady downhill. Awesome. Of course, immediately following the beautiful shady downhill was a huge, nasty, uphill climb with nary a tree in sight. It was tough. It was hot. I was thirsty and my legs were quickly turning to jello. Then I looked up and saw a topless guy at the top of a hill with a water bottle. He handed to a girl as she ran past, and ran with her for a few steps, so I figured he must have been on her team and went back to focusing on the hill. About 2/3 of the way up, I passed by a girl that had passed me right before the hill started - she was walking, but I was still trucking ahead. She'd pass me again on the downhill and end up finishing the leg ahead of me, but I made it up the monster hill of the leg and she didn't.

Anyhow, when I finally got to the top, shirtless guy was still there with an open bottle of water and asked me if I wanted any. Yes! Of course! In addition to being half-naked and bearing refreshment, he was also... quite attractive. Had I not been, you know, in the middle of a race, I would have tried to take him home with me. Maybe next time.

Anyhow, the top of that hill was the half-way point of the leg. A few more smaller hills, and the next thing I knew I thought I could see the exchange. This confused me - the map said the leg was 3.8 miles long, but I had just passed the 3-mile point, and the exchange couldn't have been more than a quarter-mile off. Did I misread the map? Was I hallucinating? As I got to the top of the hill I was working on, the answer presented itself before me. That was, indeed, the exchange, and if it was a straight shot from where I was to where it was, the leg would have been a lot shorter. However, it wasn't a straight shot - the extra half-mile I thought was missing was there, in the form of a downhill followed by an uphill. No problem. I used the downhill to pick up some speed and relax, and gave the last uphill everything I had. Sadly, at that point, it wasn't much. A guy passed me right at the start of the hill, and I decided he was a punk kid who deserved to get beaten by a girl. I tried to catch him, but didn't quite make it. Oh well. I handed off the baton again and got a cool bottle of orange Gatorade in return. Ahhhhh.

As we were heading back to the van, we overheard someone say it was going to be 60 degrees in an hour. Ha! Sure. Suuuuuure. However, a couple of hours later, as I was getting ready to start my last leg of the day, dark clouds were starting to fill the sky, the sun was far less brutal, and it looked like we were about to get rain. It wasn't quite down to 60 yet, but it was definitely on its way. Between that and the knowledge that my last leg was my "flat" one, I was a happy happy girl.

Shortly after I started running, it started to rain. Just a little sprinkle, nothing major, but just enough to feel incredibly refreshing and wonderful. The beginning uphill wasn't too bad, and before I knew it, I was running on the flattest ground I'd seen all day. I wanted to really fly, but a) I knew there was one last uphill at the end of the leg and b) my legs were just toast. I said, "Come on! Let's go! We're almost done!" and they said, "Whatever, yo. We needs a break." Oh well. I didn't pass anyone on this leg, but this was the first leg all day that I didn't get passed by any other women. Even when the guys passed me, no one really flew by me like I was standing still, which, you know, was kind of a personal victory.

The next thing I knew, I'd made it up the last hill (which was so not as bad as I thought it was going to be), and all I could see before me was a downhill, a slight rise, and the turn-off to the exchange. I gave it everything I had left, and hit the exchange pretty much at a sprint. I was done, and I'd run my fasted leg all day. Bonus! Really, I was just glad to be done at that point. I was tired, and as we walked back to the van, every single muscle in my legs cramped up all at the same time. OUCH. GAH. OUCH. At least I was done.

Overall, it was a great day for the Smurfs, as we not only finished before the cutoff time, but faster than expected with a final time of 11:23 and change. The whole weekend was a great experience - I got to hang out with some great people, and I don't think we ever stopped laughing. I'm already looking forward to next year.

Posted by Dawn at 11:22 AM | Comments (2)

April 11, 2006

Superfast

Stride workout today!

I absolutely love love love this workout - of all the different things the coach has introduced into my routine, this is easily the favorite. It's a 2 mile warm-up, followed by 10-12 intervals of 30 seconds at/below 5K pace with 1 minute of recovery, then a 1-2 mile cool-down. I like it because 30 seconds isn't all that long, so I can really push the pace, and it's fun to go flying super-fast like that. I love it.

Since I'd done my 60-second intervals last week at an 8:34 average pace while running outside, I figured I'd start these bad boys today at an 8:00 pace on the treadmill, and see how far I got. I figured I'd go until my legs were wiped out, and then I'd bring the speed down to 8:15 - 8:30 for however many intervals I had left.

I never brought the pace down. I did all 12 and the 8:00 pace, and while my legs felt a little tired, they didn't feel totally tapped out. I could have done more. I could have run at that pace for longer than 30 seconds, easily. In short, I kicked serious ass.

I've always said that when it comes to running, I have absolutely no natural talent or speed - I'm just stubborn enough to keep on going. I'm starting to think, though, that I can learn how to run fast, as long as I stay stubborn enough to keep pushing myself.

Posted by Dawn at 08:07 AM

April 09, 2006

The "Magic Number"

In both of my marathon training cycles, I've had a "magic number" - the number that makes me freak out when I see runs bigger than it on my calendar. Last time, it was 10 miles, and I wound up running the Chicago Distance Classic instead of the scheduled 12 miles to help me get over it. From that point on, nothing else - not even the 20 miler - freaked me out as much, because I knew if I could run 10+, I could do anything. This time, the magic number was 15 miles. I was OK with the 10-12 mile runs. I was OK with the half. But today's 16-mile fast-finish long run has been weighing heavily on my mind and stressing me out all week long. There were two reasons for this: a) 16 miles, the longest I've run in a long while and over my "magic number" of 15; b) the fast-finish - not only was I going to have to run 16 miles, I was going to have to run the last 5 at race pace.

I realize that these fears were totally unfounded and also totally illogical. Why was 16 miles freaking me out when I'm going to be running 26.2 next month? And why would 5 miles at race pace be a problem when I'm hoping to be able to run all 26.2 miles at that pace next month? Silly Dawnie.

This morning, as I was getting ready, I was still trying to find a good way to approach it mentally, when it hit me: it's like an 11-mile warm-up followed by a 5-mile pace run. Bingo! 11 miles? No problem! 5 miles at race pace? No problem! I got my gear together and headed out.

I've been doing my long runs at a 12:00 pace lately, but that pace is getting harder and harder to settle into - it takes me 2-3 miles to get into it, because for those first few miles, my legs want to run closer to 11:30. I would go with it, except today I was afraid of not having enough energy for the big finish, so I made myself slow down. I hit the turnaround feeling great - it was a beautiful day on the lake. Sunny, a little windy, 50 degrees, and just fabulous. I stopped for a gel and some water, and to stretch out a bit. When I started heading home, I felt like I was just getting started. Awesome.

I was running into the wind a bit for the second half of the run, but it wasn't horrible. Just a little extra work. Nothing I couldn't handle. I hit the 11 mile mark and picked up the pace and realized that while I felt aerobically OK, my legs were pretty damn tired. Ugh. I stopped at mile 12 for some more gel and water and to mentally regroup. I stopped again at 14 for my last gel and told myself that I only had two miles left. Two miles! I can do it! It was turning out that "marathon pace" wasn't really all that fast - not holding myself back and keeping it relaxed was enough to get me down to the 10:53 target. I felt myself going faster the last two miles, and it was totally because I knew I was almost home, and I wanted to be done. Horse heading back to the barn and whatnot.

My splits for the last 5 miles of the run were: 10:54, 10:46, 10:58, 10:17, 10:14

Right on target, with those last two coming out of who knows where. I was tired when I got home, and figured I'd spend the afternoon sleeping. I've been chilliing on the couch watching TV for the past two hours, and I'm feeling surprisingly good. If I were to lie down in bed, I could probably fall asleep, but outside of the achy tiredness in my legs, I'm feeling pretty darn good. Maybe I'm getting the hang of this whole thing after all.

Posted by Dawn at 01:18 PM | Comments (2)

April 06, 2006

Behind

I am so behind on this right now. I owe you guys a race report from the 8k I ran on Sunday. Then there's the running I didn't do last week when I was totally stoned out on NyQuil and the running I have done this week now that I'm feeling better. Then there's the new schedule I got from my coach, which I'm equally excited about and afraid of. However, there's also the fact that my job has sort of exploded in my face recently, which has been an adventure, although one that severely cuts into my blogging time. Add in the fact that I'm in meetings all day every day this week and my two major customers are both having crises and, well, yeah. Not so much with the time to do the updating. But I'm still here, I'm still running, and I'll be back soon to fill you in on everything you missed. Promise.

Posted by Dawn at 07:30 AM | Comments (2)